Galthor had realized a while ago that the best way to spread his name, at least among the Stronghide tribe, was to show off himself. He was the best proof of the barbarian god.

So when he told Grimvar to "go on," he already expected what the young barbarian was about to say.

"But how? How can you become such a glorious warrior? To even fight against someone like the First Commander!" Grimvar couldn't hide his excitement as he spoke.

Galthor smiled. "Indeed. It was a known fact that First Commander Oryn was a man above the masters. No essence master could ever touch him, but I did.

"And that is because I'm also above the master rank. I have been blessed by the barbarian god."

Just as expected, the stunned silence that followed was instantly broken by an onslaught of whispering words and shocked gasps. He let them have their moments while he watched them. Finally, he clapped, letting the booming sound silence them.

"You all knew me before. I couldn't even fight a first-stage essence user, but now I killed a master and even those above it. How else can you explain it? I am blessed by our god. He was dead, but he's here now."

Again, they began to whisper and look at him with wide eyes. Of course, they couldn't deny the fact standing in front of them, as they all knew what Galthor was before.

But for him to claim that the barbarian god is alive! Isn't that a little too much?

Again, Grimvar was the one that asked the question. "His name. What is the name of this barbarian... our god?"

"Unchanging Warth. That is his name."

With that, Galthor turned around and left them, his task complete. He wasn't there to convince them in the first place. He knew it would take more than that to get them to change their minds and start believing in a god that shouldn't exist.

What he did was plant a seed of doubt in their minds, and now, he would wait for it to slowly take root and sprout.

Inside the meeting room, Karathra and Brakthar waited for him at the table. Brakthar asked him, "Chief, what are you planning to do after this?"

"I'm going to get the last two masters, and then I will create a stable hunting team that will take care of my people until they're back on their feet. Only then can we let things return to how they used to be.

"And you, Karathra, you will get back to training them. At the same time, we'll start rebuilding every house in this place. They're all falling apart!"

Brakthar and Karathra looked at each other before she shook her head and asked, "My lord, what about... our god? We need to know more. We need him. If we're going to break the chains of slavery as you said, then we'll need more blessed..."

Galthor raised his hand. "I know what you want. But didn't I tell you? The god is weak. To speed up his reawakening, we need to feed him. Other gods would do; their cores would nourish him. Or, if we suddenly have millions of worshippers. Or legacy."

The two of them shifted at his words, their brains moving fast as they tried to come up with the most likely and easiest way to nourish their god.

Karathra's eyes widened. "The legacy of the Abyssal Land!"

Galthor smiled. "Yes. That will do for now."

As a Lesser Spirit, Galthor did not have the ability to "bless" others with his powers. He needed to be a Minor God first; that way, he would be in the position to do it.

But Minor God isn't the rank that comes after Lesser Spirit; it is Greater Spirit. And even though he might not be able to permanently bless them, he should still be able to bring about some miracles, at least greater miracles than what he could right now.

But first, he must rise above the ranks of Lesser Spirits, which he could probably do by devouring legacies, cores, or having worshippers.

Suddenly, Galthor blinked as a thought hit him. "...When the divine interface said that it wanted a legacy, did it mean that it wanted me to become a Greater Spirit before it activated? Seriously, I know too little about being a god even though I carry the memories of a dead one!"

Karathra grinned. "Chief, then we will get this legacy for you. I know the other banners want it as well, and the plan was to share it among each other, but who knows what will come up?"

Brakthar shrugged. "They're likely looking down on us barbarians and will pull all sorts of tricks. We should be careful. Nothing must happen to you, Chief Galthor."

Galthor couldn't help it, and he laughed out loud, his rumbling laughter shocking the others into silence. He was the god, and yet these people were worried about him.

It was strange, and yet he felt warmth deep inside of him. For someone who had lain in bed throughout his life without friends and beset by deep loneliness, it was nice to have people he could depend on.

"Don't worry. Our god will protect me. He will protect all of us. Let's trust in him."

Karathra gave him a long look, then stood and bowed. "I will organize the masters into watch keeping. Have a good rest, Chief."

Brakthar followed soon after, asking, "Are you not going to bed now?"

"No, no. I'm still going to wait for some time. I'm waiting for something to happen. I'll offer a prayer to our god."

Brakthar was confused, but he nodded and then said hesitantly, "I will also offer a prayer to him. Good rest, Chief Galthor."

Galthor sat there for a long time, his eyes slightly closed as he waited. In truth, he wasn't going to pray, but he was waiting for others to pray to him.

The seed of doubt he planted earlier must sprout into something, at the very least. He was waiting for that "something."

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